Meowuse, MD
by catkid3
Summary: The ducklings have a surprise for House, but he doesn't react in the way they expect. Oneshot.


_A/N: This idea randomly came to me, so I thought I'd use this as a bit of an experiment. Hopefully it's good. Enjoy!_

The box Cameron held shuddered. It had taken lots of effort to tape it shut, with a few air holes for the animal inside. It cried and whinged, demanding to be let out, but once the lid was closed it gradually settled down. She could feel the cardboard vibrate with the creature.

"He better not fire us," Cameron muttered.

"It's just a joke, remember?" Foreman fiddled with his coat. "Not like he'll fire us or anything."

"I know. I just hate cats."

"You remember that cat who was..staring at us while…" Chase struggled to find the right words.

Cameron held up a hand. "Don't bring that up. That thing was creepy."

The doors of the lift opened, the ducklings exiting onto the fourth floor with their precious cargo. They saw from a distance that House was indeed in his office, apparently rocking around to an ear-splittingly loud rendition of 'Livin' on a Prayer'. He had brought in one of his guitars, the chords ringing out through the glass walls and down the hallways surrounding it.

"Maybe he's in a good mood then," Chase muttered.

The trio ignored the strange looks passerby gave as they steered clear of the madman with the guitar. Foreman pushed the door to the office open, ignoring the disapproving stare House gave him. Compared to the music, the crash of the door was hardly noticeable.

"I see my adoring fans are here," House shouted, strumming out an extra lot of chords.

Cameron felt the critter inside her box attempt to run around. "HOUSE!"

With House ignoring them, launching back into his song, Chase stepped over the multiple wires running across the ground and unplugged the amp.

House sulked. "Mom!"

"Shut up. We've got something for you." Cameron set the package down on the main table, the creature inside scampering around.

House looked confused. "A stripper can't fit in there!"

Without answering, Cameron grabbed a nearby scapel and stabbed it into the cardboard. She dragged it viciously up and down, slicing the tape that sealed it. Before House could come up with another snarky response, the lid flipped open and a ball of fur sprang out, jumping onto the floor.

House bent down as far as his bad leg would let him, staring at the fluffy creature in front of him. The kitten appeared to be a few months old, with marble blue eyes and silky white fur. It purred softly and made its way closer to House, rubbing against his leg.

Foreman suppressed a snigger. "Don't kill it, by the way. It's not ours."

House simply remained still, allowing the young animal to show its affection. He ran his fingers under the kitten's chin, scratching it gently. A distinctive loud purr filled the diagnostic office. "If you take any photos, remember to photoshop my clothes off."

"Do you have to ruin everything, House?" Chase snapped, hands in pockets.

"I prefer to think it as enlightening others," House shuffled backwards, leaning against his desk. The kitten jumped onto his lap and attempted to scramble up his shoulder, sniffing all the while. "But what's the point of this?"

"We were hoping you'd give us some sort of amusing reaction," Cameron sighed.

"Naughty, naughty! I'll revoke your TV privileges for a month," House stroked the kitten, which miaowed in delight. "What did you expect me to do? Throw my cane at it?"

"Well, we were hoping you'd at least, y'know, react negatively. Make some sort of inappropriate joke."

"Now I wouldn't do that to this wittle guy, would I?" House held up the kitten, allowing it to rub his forehead. "Did you run those tests like I asked you to, dearest?"

"Patient's negative for HIV," Foreman moved the cardboard box off of the table. "No traces of illicit substances or heavy metals."

"Interesting. That stoned look she has must be from something else. Go run an MRI; make sure her brain is operating like it's supposed to."

Chase hesitated. "But what about you and-"

"My new friend? We'll stay here and make fun of how your lab coat has stains along the bottom. Don't mind us," House snarked. He bore a strange resemblance to a James Bond villain in that moment, petting the kitten. "Get going, peasants."

As soon as his minions left, House forced himself off the floor, the kitten still in his arms. He hobbled to his desk and took a seat, placing the kitten on his keyboard. It sniffed everything, attempting to attack the mouse cord when House moved it, only to fall and knock a Vicodin bottle over.

"Look what you've done!" House joked. He reached down to pick up the few pills that had been left in the bottle. "Now I have to do more work than what I want to."

Wilson's voice surprised him. "Why are you talking to a cat?"

The kitten rubbed its head against House's hand, while the latter glared at his best friend. "You tell me why not? Doesn't make me crazy, does it? Maybe the Vicodin has finally shot my brain."

Wilson ran his fingertips over the kitten. "Present from your slaves?"

"Yes actually. Was hoping for a dragon, but this is the next best thing."

"You do realise you can't keep it here?" Wilson pointed out. "It's a hospital, not a vet clinic."

House pouted. "Yes mommy. But can we keep it at home?"

"Gregory, that's up to you to decide," Wilson decided to play along. "Are you going to feed it, pet it and change its diaper?"

"Phhf. Too much work. But I'm still going to keep it."


End file.
